Thank God I Quit Smoking
by BobSince1934
Summary: Lena goes home for her grandmother's funeral and finds something she never expects, love. femmeslash. t.A.T.u.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My mother forced me to walk up to the lead-lined, mahogany casket just like she forced me to fly home for this funeral. It's not that I didn't love my grandmother, I did. It's the rest of my family I'm not so fond of.

I hate open-casket funerals. No matter how much preparation morticians do to dead bodies to make them look like they did when they were alive, the person is still dead. It's creepy to have to see them like that. My mother was cruel for making me look. It's like saying, 'Sure she looks like she's just asleep, but don't let appearances fool you, Lena. She's dead. Don't get your hopes up. She's not coming back. I shouldn't have looked. I should've just kept my eyes closed, but I knew if I did my mother would scold me for it. She was already giving me shit for not seeing Nana before she died. She'd complain if I didn't see her after she died either.

They had given Nana a permanent for the funeral. They had also put her in her favorite dress, a long, black, floral-print dress you'd expect a grandmother to own. It was her wedding gown. Not the one she wore for her first wedding, but the one she was wearing when she eloped with my step grandfather in Vegas after my real grandfather passed away.

She was so still and pale, nothing like the Nana I knew. She was always so lively and exciting. She was the only one in my family who was too wild for such a small town in Wisconsin. She always told us she should've been born the daughter of a big business man in New York or Boston and not the daughter of a pig farmer in The Middle of Nowhere, Wisconsin. She always regretted not staying in Vegas permanently when she eloped there. She applauded my when I finally got the chance to get out of here and go to college in California. I almost didn't go. I wasn't sure if the big city was my kind of place, but she encouraged me to go. She said there was nothing here for such a smart woman like me. She said I'd suffocate if I stayed here. I trusted her word. My grandmother was a wise woman.

I hadn't cried this whole time, but now seeing her physically dead it seemed somehow more real. My grandmother was the only person who never judged me or tried to change me into what she wanted me to be. It felt like she was the only one in my family who truly loved me for me.

My tears pleased my mother. I saw the way she was looking at me earlier like she thought I was cold and heartless.

She put her arms around me in a failed attempt to comfort me. Instead of gathering myself, I turned away from the coffin and cried into her shoulder. She led me back to our seats so as not to keep the rest of our family from seeing Nana, and so I wouldn't cause a scene. I had held all my feelings in until now, and I was crying hysterically. I couldn't keep myself from gasping and moaning from grief even though I wanted nothing more than to stop. I was ridiculously loud, and it was extremely embarrassing.

By the time they released us all to go to the cemetery plot, I had gotten control of myself. My face was red and tear-stained, and I was pretty sure my mascara was running, but at least I wasn't embarrassing myself any more.

I had driven with my mother in her car. She had gone to the bathroom and had taken the keys with her. Since I couldn't get in the car while I waited for her, I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette. I needed one. My nerves were shot. I was halfway through it when my mother finally came out to the car. She saw me leaning against the passenger side door waiting for her smoking, and a look of disapproval washed over her face. She walked over, took the still good cigarette out of my mouth, threw it on the ground, and stepped on it to put the flame out. "Haven't you learned anything? Smoking's what killed your Nana. Do you want to end up like her?"

"No, ma'am."

I've been meaning to stop smoking, I really have. I wanted to even before we found out Nana had lung cancer. It's just that I have so much going on in my life. I want to stop smoking, but it feels like I still need to.

We drove to the cemetery plot in a straight line along with everyone else. Nana was to be buried side-by-side with her first husband. The headstone was there for her with her and Grandpa's names on it. Her death date hadn't been carved in yet.

I was able to keep form tearing up again for the rest of the time. I kept my eyes on the ground most of the time and tried to imagine who I was standing on top of.

I had wanted to go up and say something about her, but I couldn't work up the courage to say it at the funeral home, and I didn't want to say it now for fear that I would start crying again. I never got the chance to talk about her, but all that mattered was that she knew how I felt, and I knew that she did.

**AN/ Don't expect me to update this one too often. I haven't been very focused on it and haven't written on it in months. But I do have 5 chapters done already so I didn't want to leave you guys out.**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank God I Quit Smoking

Chapter 2

After the funeral I went back to my mom's house. It was where I was staying during my trip here. I couldn't afford to rent a hotel room for the whole duration of the trip. I'd figured I be here for about a week.

The first thing I did was change out of my dress clothes into something more comfortable and more colorful. All the black I was wearing was really starting to depress me. I chose blue jeans and a red shirt just a few shades brighter than my hair.

I was exhausted, and it wasn't even 5:00. I collapsed with a sigh onto my bed.

My mom had kept my room exactly the way I left it when I first went off for college. I was thankful she hadn't turned it into a guest bedroom. Staying in it almost felt like home. But this was no longer my home. My real home was back in LA with my friends.

I took a quick nap, all the crying had worn me out. My mother woke me up an hour and a half later for supper.

The dinner table felt so empty with just the two of us present. I missed Dad. My mother and I still hadn't gotten used to his absence even though he passed away more than five years ago when I was sixteen. He was killed in a car accident. We weren't tin the car with him, or we would've been goners too. A semi hit him head on. The car was totaled. No one could've survived it. He died instantly.

I don't have a step-dad and I'm glad. I don't' know who Mom would've married anyway. I suppose she could've found someone who was nice enough to take car of her and help pay the bills. In the long run I think it might've been beneficial if she had, but she didn't believe in divorce or remarriage for that matter. She always told me she had felt too strong a loyalty to Dad to even think about seeing someone else.

Dinner had always been quiet after Dad died, but now it was just awkward. I hadn't been home for so long that I had lost my immunity to the quiet. Not that I never ate in silence in L.A., I just wasn't used to doing it when there was someone else around. Most of my friends are big talkers, and if I go out to lunch with them I barely even get a chance to say anything.

I wanted to say something to get her talking, but I had no idea what I should say. I hoped she would say something. She looked like she had something to get off her chest. I waited for her to build up the courage to say it, but she never did. It must not have been too important.

When we were finished, I took away her plate having every intention of doing the dishes like I used to, but she stopped me. "You don't live here anymore. You're a guest. I'm going to treat you like one."

I didn't know what to do after dinner, so I went walking around town. There's not much to do here. We have a mall, but it's incredibly small compared to the ones in L.A. We have a movie theatre and even a mini-golf course, but other than that there's nothing really exciting. I walked through the streets past all the little shops and grocery stores with no destination in sight all the while smoking the last cigarette in the only pack I had on me. I smoked it down to a stub and threw it on the ground. It was sprinkling, and I knew the rain would put out the flame for me.

The rain felt so nice. Despite it being the evening, it was rather humid making it too hot for one's comfort. The rain acted as the perfect natural air conditioning with every falling drop that landed and burst on my skin providing relief.

I went into the first convenience store I found with an almost empty wallet and every intent on spending the last few dollars I had in there on another pack of cigarettes. Then I thought of my Nana and how smoking killed her, and how every time I would smoke in front of my mom from this day forward she would berate me for continuing such a vulgar act. Instead, I grabbed a pack of nicotine gum and a box of nicotine patches.

I brought my things to the cash register and was immediately at the front of the line. There was no one else in the store. There wasn't even anyone outside pumping gas.

The girl working the register looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. She had short spiky black hair and appeared to be around my age. It wasn't until she spoke that I recognized who she was.

"Will that be all?"

She still had her accent. After living in America all these years, it's not as extreme as it was when she first moved here. We could hardly understand a word she said at first.

When Yulia Volkova moved here from Russia my sophomore year, it was the most exciting thing that happened during my whole high school career. She was so odd and unique. We were amazed that she had moved to our little town.

"Yulia?"

She looked at me for a moment. "Do I know you?"

"We went to high school together. I'm Lena. Katina."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember you, but it's nice to see you, Lena."

It was no surprise that she didn't remember me. We were never exactly friends. We didn't belong to the same circle. She was more popular than I was. She wasn't in the 'in-crowd', but a step below. I was smart and often considered a goody-two-shoes, but I wasn't defined as a nerd, maybe a step above.

"So you're trying to quit smoking?" she asked observing the items I was purchasing.

"Yeah. I've been wanting to for a while, and I've decided to actually try."

"Hopefully this stuff works better for you than it did for me. I tried it, but ended up having to quite cold turkey."

Now that she mentioned it, I did remember seeing her smoking in the court yard at school a few times.

She rung up my items, and I barely had enough money with me to cover it all.

"It was nice seeing you, Lena."

"You too, Yulia." I almost turned to leave, but I decided to say one more thing to her. "We should get together sometime. To talk."

"Yeah, we should."

"But I'm only going to be in town for a few more days, so -"

"I have the day off tomorrow. We could have lunch together."

"Sounds good to me."

A man stepped up to the counter next to me. I'd failed to notice him come in at all.

"Well, I better go. You seem busy."

"Bye, Lena," Yulia called out from behind the counter then turned her attention back to the man.

The door chime jingled as I exited the convenience store. The rain had stopped, but the sun had gone down and had taken the heat with it. I wasn't at all uncomfortable as I made my way back to my mother's house.


	3. Chapter 3

In this town when two people say they're going to meet for lunch, there's only one place to go, Bernie's, and that's where I was headed the next morning around noon. My mother had taken the car this morning when she went to work leaving me without at faster method of transportation. It felt like I was back in high school again only being able to drive when my mom allowed me to borrow her car. Part of me wished I had driven here, so I would have my own car, but the drive here would've been six hours long, and with the price of gas it would've been more expensive than getting a plane ticket. Luckily the walk to Bernie's from my house was less than fifteen minutes, which seemed to be the case for a lot of places in town.

Bernie's was packed as it usually is on weekends. It's a rather small café and the result of its size and popularity is an eternity of waiting in line, and a really long line at that. Today there happened to be a line that extended outside of the restaurant doors.

I felt guilty as I pushed my way to the front of the line despite everyone's protests. I knew Yulia was smart enough to get here early, so we would've have to wait. There was nothing more I could do to soothe the irritation of the hungry, waiting customers except utter useless apologies. Even the usher seating people was annoyed as she saw me cut my way to the front of the line.

"Miss, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to wait like everyone else."

"I'm meeting someone who's already here." I informed her.

She frowned as she picked up the reservation book. "Party name?"

"Volkova." I tried my best to pronounce the foreign name as accurately as I could.

She scanned through the list before informing me that Yulia was indeed already here. She escorted me to a booth next to a window where Yulia was seated sipping an iced tea. Her face brightened when she saw me.

"I was afraid you weren't going to be able to get in."

"Well, I somehow managed it."

"I'm glad."

I took my seat across from her in the booth. Why she had picked the booth, I didn't know. We could've sat at a small two-person table and given the booth to a larger party. But looking around it seemed that all the smaller tables were filled as were the big ones and the booths. This place must make a fortune. I wasn't even aware that there were this many people in town.

Yulia had begun leafing through her menu, and I began to do the same even though I already knew what I wanted to get. She was still deciding when the waiter came around to take our orders.

The first thing I noticed about the waiter was his jet black hair and his piercing blue eyes. He was hot. It was a wonder I managed to speak without making a fool of myself.

"I'll have the taco salad." Bernie was famous for his taco salads.

"And to drink?" the waiter asked writing my first order down in shorthand on his pad.

"Just a water."

"Would you like lemon with that?"

"Sure."

"And you, Miss?" he asked turning his attention to Yulia.

"You know, I think I'll have the same."

"All right, two taco salads and one water with lemon coming right up."

He walked off to take the next table's order.

"How long are you going to be in town for?"

"Hmm?" I hummed. I hadn't been paying attention. I was still thinking about the waiter.

"You mentioned you were only going to be here for a few days. I was wondering exactly how long."

"Probably just until the end of the week."

"Where are you going?"

"Back to L.A."

"Back? Well, that explains why I haven't seen you since high school. You weren't here."

"No, I wasn't. I've been going to school out there for the past three years."

"I didn't bother with college. I don't have the money. I'm not smart enough anyway."

I wasn't sure what kind of grades she made, but I did know that she had been in our school's tutoring program. I was one of the few tutors, and she was just one of the many students who had needed tutoring. I hadn't been assigned to tutor her though, so I couldn't be a judge of just how smart she was.

"If you live in L.A., what are you doing here? There has to be some reason you came back. I doubt you decided to take an impromptu trip back home what with classes going on and all."

"Actually, I'm on summer vacation." We got out right before I received the news of my grandmother's death.

"Well, I'm sorry. Maybe you did decided to take an impromptu trip."

Her apology for what she had said before reminded me of a cop apologizing for accusing a suspect when they had an alibi.

"No, I came out here for a funeral. My grandmother's."

"Oh. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I was really little when my _babushka _died. I was only about three or four. I don't remember much about her." She chuckled. "My mom says I'm lucky I don't remember her. She was my dad's mom and she didn't approve of his wanting to marry my mom. Apparently, she said some pretty nasty stuff about her."

"Like what," I wondered out loud.

"She looked down on her for being a prostitute."

"Your mom was a prostitute?" I asked shocked.

"She was until she met my father. You have to remember this was in Russia. There weren't too many ways for a woman to earn her own money back then."

Man, was I grateful that America wasn't run by communists.

The waiter came back with my water. "Your food should be ready soon," he informed us with no knowledge of when our food would be done. I had taken a witnessing job in high school to help pay for college. They had told us always to say that on busy days, so customers were less likely to get impatient and complain. They also told us to say exactly what he said next. "I'm sorry for the wait. We're pretty busy." He smiled and was as polite as he could be which is what my coworkers taught me to do in order to get better tips.

When he smiled I couldn't help but notice how straight and white his teeth were. He really was cute. I couldn't help but smile too as I watched him walk away. His butt wasn't bad either.

"Cute, huh?" Yulia commented.

"You think so too?"

"No. He's not my type."

Good. That meant I could have him all to myself even though it was just a fantasy and I'd probably never see him again in my life. Unless he brought the food too . . .

"I don't know if I'd be able to stand doing his job," Yulia said once again bringing me back from my waiter fantasy. "I could never remember what order goes to what table, and who at that table had what order. I don't' think I'd be able to deal with complaints and rude customers either."

"I know what you mean. I used to be a waitress. There are some people that will have you take their meal back multiple times until it's perfect."

"I couldn't deal with it. I'd probably end up throwing their food in their face if they did that to me."

"It can get pretty bad, but the job does have its perks. You get tips, and at least you're not working in solitary."

"I make tips," She reassured me. "Sometimes. I have a tip jar, it's just that no one ever puts money in it." we both laughed. "And I don't work alone. Sometimes the manager's there."

"Well, he wasn't there last night. I think night would be the time to have someone else there with you. What if someone tried to rob the place?"

"There hasn't been a robbery in this town in decades," she rationalized. "You know that."

I had to admit it. A robbery was unlikely.

"I won't be working alone for much longer anyway. We're having a second cash register put in, and once we get it installed, we're hiring someone to work it."

The waiter brought our salads sooner than I had predicted, and Yulia and I busied ourselves with eating them. It had been so long since I'd had a taco salad from Bernie's, and they were definitely the best I had ever tasted. It was well worth the wait.

Yulia must've thought the same because neither of us said hardly anything as we ate. We were too busy savoring the taste.

When the waiter brought the check when we were done eating, Yulia offered to pay for everything. I told her that was unnecessary. I had went to the bank last night before coming home, and I was no longer penniless. I wanted to pay for my half of the tab, but she wouldn't let me. "I want to," she pleaded. In the end I let her pay for it, but I felt a little guilty. The lunch didn't cost very much, but I was raised to be polite, and I felt bad for letting her pay for my half.

I wanted to get out of the restaurant quickly, so I wouldn't have to receive another dirty look from the usher who was obviously in a bad mood. She was still at her platform when we left. I tried to hide behind Yulia as we passed her, so she wouldn't see me, but that plan didn't' work too well. Yulia was a good three or four inches shorter than me, and I was positive I was visible behind her. The usher may have seen me, but at least Yulia was tall enough to block my view of the usher.

I walked with Yulia to her car, and I had planned to say good bye to her there, but she asked me where I had parked my car. "I walked," I told her, so she offered me a ride home. I accepted her offer seeing as how I really didn't feel like walking all the way back home.

Her car may not have been the nicest, or the newest, or made by the best brand, but it ran, and it was clean.

I gave her directions to my house, and she said she'd be able to find it with no problem. She knew someone who lived near there.

"Have you tried the patches or the gum yet?"

It took me a minute to remember what she was talking about. "I put one of the patches on. On my shoulder blade."

Despite the fact that she was driving, she reached over and rolled up the sleeve of my T-shirt to reveal the patch. I shivered as her fingers brushed against the soft flesh of my arm, and my body practically screamed as she pulled away.

"Some smokers lie abut trying to quit," she explained. "I had to check. Not that I think you're a liar."

I couldn't talk to her for the rest of the car ride. I didn't know why her touch was so electrifying. It unnerved me.

It didn't take long to get to my house. The fifteen-minute walk was about a five-minute drive.

"Well, bye, Lena," she said as she pulled into our driveway. "It was nice to see you."

Looking at her I was already missing her. It was a shame we'd probably never get to spend time together like this again. She had real friend potential. "We should've been better friends in high school," I said before getting out


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

There was nothing to do at my house with my mom still at work. I watched a little TV, but turned it off soon after turning it on, realizing that the only thing that would be on in the early afternoon on a weekday was soap operas.

I tried to see if there was anything that needed done around the house. This would be my only time to do it seeing as my mother apparently wasn't going to let me help when she was here insisting that I didn't have to act like kin, but a guest. I came up shorthanded finding the kitchen recently mopped, the carpets recently vaccumed, the windows recently washed, the toilets recently scrubbed, the dishes recently washed, and virtually no clothes in the laundry basket. It was nothing I shouldn't have expected. My mom is a neat freak.

There was nothing productive for me to do, so I went back to my old room. I tried to take a nap, but I found myself unable to. So I did what I always did when I couldn't sleep; think.

Being back in this house only allowed me to think of one thing, and that was all the good times we'd had here as a family before Dad's accident. I kept a picture of my dad on my dresser. I was sitting in his lap as he held on to me and swang us back and forth on the swingset.

I missed my dad.

My mom got off of work at a little after 3:00, but she didn't make it home until nearly 4:00. She's a substitute teacher. She'll sub for anyone in the county which is why it took her so long to get home from work. Usually she's back by 3:30. The school she mainly is asked to sub for is right in our own town. She doesn't have to travel out of town too often which is good.

I helped her cook dinner, which wasn't anything fancy, just spaghetti and garlic bread. I set the table, she served the food, then we both sat down to say grace. My mother said the prayer. "God, we thank you for this meal and for the roof over our heads which is why I pray to you that we don't lose it. We also hope you accept the souls of our dearly departed and take them under your wing and into your kingdom. Amen." She made the sign of the cross.

"Amen." My Amen was a little late and my voice unsure.

I had been hungry before, but now I was a little worried. "Mom?"

She looked up from her place. She was slurping noodles into her mouth from her fork.

"What did you mean by you hope we don't lose the house?"

She sighed. "I've been meaning to talk to you." I was starting to become concerned at this point. "Can we wait until after dinner? I wouldn't want the food to get cold."

She couldn't really be losing the house, could she? She's got a job. Maybe it's not the most profitable one, but she's still bringing in money. Unless she's about to get laid off. She could find another job though, and there's Dad's life insurance money. She could dip into that while she looks for another job. Even if that runs out we could use Nana's life insurance money. I convinced myself that this wasn't going to be as serious as she was making it sound.

We ate anotehr quiet dinner, both of us absorbed in our own thoughts. I hadn't been able to finish my portion of spaghetti. Nervousness filled my stomach. There was no room for food.

My mother led me into the living room for our discussion. Before she washed the dishes. Mom always washes the dishes right after dinner. I sat on the couch, and she sat opposite me on the Laz-E-Boy recliner. She was lurched forward, her hands almost in a praying position resting on the bridge of her nose, her thumbs tucked under her chin. She stared off into space as if thinking of exactly how to tell me what she was planning to tell me. We sat like this for a minute. The only audible sounds being the chime of the grandfather clock, and my heartbeat thump-thump-thumping in my ears. Was she ever going to speak? I couldn't stand this empty silence. I could feel tiny beads of sweat form on my forehead beneath my bangs. My nerves got the best of me. "Did you lose your job?"

She glanced over at me startled from her thoughts. She brought her hands back into her lap and relaxed into her chair. "No."

"No?"

"No."

I breathed out a sigh of relief, my body visably relaxing.

"But I'm broke."

I tensed up again. "How are you broke if you've still got your job?"

"I'm a teacher, Lenka, and a substitute one at that. I've never made much money. Your father was the main bread winner. Ever since he died my savings have been getting smaller and smaller."

"What about his life insurance?"

"His insurance was almost nothing. Only a few thousand dollars."

"And Nana's?"

"Not all of her money went to us."

"So you're really going to lose the house?" The realization finally set in.

"Looks like it." Her voice was void of all emotion.

How could she sit there stoic and calm? She was going to lose her _house_. The roof above her head. I couldn't let this happen.


End file.
